Terrorism in the Clench?
open the 3rd nostril [backward masking]
Date: Fri, 12 Jan 90 09:24:30 -0500
From: Jim Hofmann 5577 <firstname.lastname@example.org>
Subject: Terrorism in the Clench?
Albany NY 12220
Bomb'Em If They Can't Take a Joke
The Epistle to the Black Legions
ON NOVEMBER 22, 1989, I received a bomb in the mail at my street address.
Purportedly from "Luis Zapato" at a Tampa address later established to be
imaginary, it had been mailed from Wausau, Wisconsin two days before.
Packaged in a cassette, it was made of a contact switch, batteries,
flashcubes and small firecrackers. It looked suspicious to me -- paranoia
has its upside -- and on an impulse I threw the thing against a door before
fully opening it. There was a sound and a puff of smoke. It turns out the
flashcubes all went off without igniting the firecrackers. It was a tiny
little bomb, unlikely to kill, but I might have lost some fingers or been
blinded. Regardless, as a postal inspector told me, "We don't take these things
lightly." I lack the expertise to disarm an unexploded bomb, so I had no
choice but to involve the authorities.
WHODUNIT? It was difficult not to laugh when a detective asked me, "Do
you have any enemies?" Try spending 90 minutes explaining to a postal
inspector what a "SubGenius" is. There are many possibilities, but the
probability is that a SugGenius zombie is to blame. Since gratuitously
insulting me two years ago, "Ivan Stang" has gone all-out to make a
commercial success out of the Church, and there have been adverse
reactions from the marginals milieu, invariably attributed to my malign
influence because Stang, like his precursors at Processed
World, simply can't comprehend that the difference between my kind of people
and his is precisely that my friends aren't followers. Tad Kepley
bootlegged the SubGenius video on his own initiative, a punishment to fit the
capitalist crime which would never have occurred to somebody who hasn't owned
a TV set for 13 years. Pascal Uni never even told me that he'd handed Stang
the anti-Sub Dadata poster at a Lousiana devival last summer, to Stang's
visible consternations. Etc. Nobody needs me to point out how crass it
is for SubGenius, a collage of plagiarisms, to threaten anybody with
copyright laws. But I did point it out. Stang knows he's betrayed the
fringe types he built his media career on, as I observed when I reviewed
High Weirdness By Mail. Recall his overreaction, in Popular Reality, to some
rather offhand complaints by John Zerzan -- Stang so far succumbed to guilty
anxiety that his letter wasn't funny. He knows he's a shit, and it hurts.
THE MOST IMPORTANT CLUE, in my mind is the fact the bomb went to my home
address. Few know it. I know, however, that Stang has a correspondent
in Albany (since January) who's been to my apartment -- SuzanneDeGrasse, alias
"GOBI", whom some of you may recall nearly got some marginals in legal trouble
when the police seized ghger correspondence in 1987 when she was 16 and residing
in Rochester. Now 19, she's a SUNY student (phone number not included). Her
usual M.O. is exaggerated adulation promptly followed by aversion. Her access
to me confers on her an importance in the eyes of Stang she couldn't earny
by her own modest creative attempts. She might have
relayed the info directly to my active SubG enemies in Boston -- Ken DeVries
is sick enough to have done this, and the postal inspectors will be talking to
him - or Stang may have circulated it to his loyalists. Had I got a package
from somebody I didn't know at my post office box I'd have opened it without a
thought; sending it to me at home reduced its effectiveness. Unless the point
is to tell me, "We know where you live"? That won't silence me; witness this
epistle. GOBI is the only person who might want me to leave town -- I might
move closer to the bomber if I did move.
IF THAT SEEMS WILDLY DISPROPORTIONATE to my offenses, consider how touchy
Stang's been lately, and how insane some of his henchmen are, especially the
Bostonians. "Ahmed Fismonger" (Seth Deitch, address deleted,
phone number deleted), a Stang lapdog, is capable of mail malarkey --
he once forged a letter ostensibly from me to Mike Hoy of Loompanics to
estrang me from my publisher. Ken DeVries (address, phone number deleted)
made over a hundred hang-up calls to me when I lived near Boston and
dispacthed some hate letteers which mark him as the sickest puppy in the
SubGenius litter; he's also still diddling my ex, Donna Kossy (address,
phone number deleted), whom I introduced him to -- betrayal seems distinctively
part of the SubGenius style. I have done nothing to these wankers since I left
their area 16 months ago, but I have japed Stang (address, phone numbere
deleted) in ways he or one of his more disturbed devotees might consider
THIS WON'T SIT WELL with some people but I'm going to 'fess up anyway. Stang
has been calling me "insane" ever since DeVries denied making the hang-up
calls -- although later he admitted in writing to making one leaving the
message, "I'm waiting for you," something Stang says I was insane for imagining.
Visitors and houseguests of mine with every reason to be impartial -- like
Mike Gunderloy of Factsheet Five - confirm that I was getting these wake-up
calls, lots of them, when I was in Boston. Stang won't admit he was wrong to
believe DeVries instead of me, because he prefers followers like the
Bostonians to friends like myself, althought I did more for SubG than all of
them put together. Anyway, in High Wierdness Stang, who flaunts his apolitical
stance, wracked up brownies points with cheap-shot ridicule of hate groups
chosen to please the yuppie liberal market he's trying to expand into (I
notice he was careful to omit the JDL). I reflected that as recently as a few
months, ago, Stang was calling me "insan" in Dharma Combat and that if I have
to take the lumps for being insane I might as well get the satisfaction also.
He is also on record as believing that people like me who complain of crank
calls are therefore insane; I wondered if he'd change his mind if he got some
himself. So I photocopies Stang's review of 20-plus hate groups whom he
doubtless assumed would never see what he was saying behind their backs. I sent
them to the groups, along with his real name, home address and home phone
number. I assume he got some crank calls as a result, but nothing worse
or we'd have heard of it. But Stang or his underlings might well regard this
is a life-threatening attempt to get him Salman Rishdie'd. A tiny little bomb,
in this view, might not seem an excessive response. Somebody thought it
was a suitable response to something I've said or done, this much is certain.
NOT THAT WE CAN RULE OUT more ancient enemies like Processed World with its
history of authoritarian violence, or assorted anarchist loonies like Fred
Woodworth or Ron Gould. If the Federales don't nail a SubGenius and/or SPAz,
I'll send them after PW next. Bad-mouthing me won't protect anybody, because
the post office is doing this to protect its own personnel, I don't matter one
way or the other. I have no "anarchist" scruples impeding my pursuit of my
self-interest. The bomber, if caught, can count on doing time,
and it won't be quality time, it'll be quantity time. I invite the marginals
to join the posse, the way the underworld did in M to hunt down Peter
Lorre because he was giving criminals a bad name. I was suprised to get a
bomb, but not suprised to get the first one, if there was going to be a first
one. As David Crowbar says, we may all have to start throwing our mail against
the wall - and our culture depends on the mail. Know anybody in Wausau
(north central Wisconsin)? Anybody visiting the vicinity on November
20? Tell me about it. Insert this letter in your 'zine. Pass the word.
Listen for the bragging the perpetrator is surely unable to keep to himself.
Query the SubG snitch network, if you like, for whatever they have to say
for themselves. Sometimes an injury to one is an injury to all. This is
one of those times.
If you want your own copy of the Missive, write to Bob. Also, he'll provide
you with the addresses and phone numbers of the SubCrew.
Subject: open the 3rd nostril [backward masking]
Keywords: Jesus, sausage
Date: Fri, 12 Jan 90 13:57:41 -0500
From: Ed Frankenberry <email@example.com>
"My savior has no nose."
"Then how does he smell?"
------- Forwarded Message
From: firstname.lastname@example.org (Charles Forsythe)
Subject: Re: Things you can do with recording tape, etc.
Date: 12 Jan 90 07:14:18 GMT
>One thing you can easily do with a loop of recording tape that you can't
>(at least to the best of my knowledge) do with any reasonably affordable
>(>$2000) sampler is play samples backward.
It also plays "bidirectionally" where it with go back and forth between the
loop points. Handy for "stringy" things.
Did you know that the phrase "Jesus loves you" played backwards sounds like
"We smell sausage." The phrase "Bob loves you" played backwards sounds like
"We smell Bob". Spooky, huh?
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------- End of Forwarded Message
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